The Memory Remains
by ann no aku
Summary: Ten is plagued by memories that Nine created of him and Rose. Rose/Nine, Rose/Ten
1. The Dream

**The Memory Remains**

ann no aku

**Plot: **Ten is plagued by memories that Nine created of him and Rose. Rose/Nine, Rose/Ten

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Doctor Who

**Notes:** Takes place before _School Reunion._

*********

Chapter One: The Dream

He had another dream about Rose and his prior regeneration. For the past fortnight, every night, the Doctor had dreams about Rose as if they were memories trying to resurface. But he would have remembered memories like those. So why did they plague him? Was it because his regeneration had gone wrong?

They had seemed to be fueled by the kiss they had shared on New Earth. That's what had started the dreams, and they had visited New Earth within two days of his regeneration (not including Christmas when he had been out of commission). Ever since then, the Doctor has suffered from such erotic and realistic dreams that they awoke this part of him which made it difficult for him to be too close to Rose.

Almost every time that he smelled her, felt her brush against him, the Doctor would nearly instantly have to pull away, the tightness in his trousers demanding release. He'd recall the dreams, still able to feel her skin beneath his fingers, even if they were the fingers of ol' daft face. Turning over in his bed, he tried to put the latest dream out of his mind.

But it haunted him. As his own hand crept between his legs, he succumbed to the memory.

_It was just after they had returned Adam home. He had been jealous of the fool, but was thrilled he had fucked up so spectacularly that there was nothing left except to say 'good riddance'. The Doctor took her out to celebrate, yet outwardly claiming that they needed a holiday after having some giant alien's guts spewed all over them on Satellite Five. She wore a skirt and a blouse that had him fighting for every second._

All that really happened, as the dream had reminded him. It was the bit back in the TARDIS that he had fantasized about.

_Rose came to his room, something she usually did after they had just survived another adventure. She crawled into his bed and snuggled up to him, her head on his jumper-clad chest. She demanded that he tell her about Gallifrey. He complied and absently ran his fingers through her hair._

_She sighed, her hot breath reaching beneath the fibers of his jumper and penetrating his skin. The Doctor shifted uncomfortably, but didn't stop his caress. His fingers trailed down her half naked spine, dancing along her exposed tailbone. He applied light pressure, nearly groaning himself as she emitted a soft cry. Rose pressed herself deeper into him, her breasts nearly spilling onto his chest. He felt her squirm next to him, her bare thighs rubbing against each other. With his heightened senses, the Doctor could smell the affect he was having on her. Hungrily, he licked his lips, desperate to taste her._

_He noticed, with a suppressed growl, that Rose had bitten her lower lip and closed her eyes. Daringly, he ventured further, slipping his trembling hand beneath her knickers to cup her bum. He squeezed, relishing in the feel of her soft skin beneath his. As he caressed her, Rose's own deft fingers slid up beyond his knee and high between his thighs. Audibly, the Doctor gulped. With the throbbing in his trousers, he knew he was hard. It didn't help that Rose's feather-light touches found him, brushing along the length._

During the dream, the Doctor had wondered why his prior regeneration would have such a frustrating fantasy. It had felt so completely real—the tension, the build-up betwixt his legs, her next to him moaning and writhing in pleasure. His ninth version sure had fantastic self-control.

_It twitched beneath her fingers, a reaction that did not go unnoticed by her. If anything, it seemed to incense Rose. She grabbed him, her grip firm and demanding. He groaned, utilizing the opportunity to pull her on top of him. She sat directly atop where her hand had just been. He could feel the moisture and heat under his jeans. For a moment, neither moved, both too afraid to ruin anything._

_Until, that is, when Rose simultaneously leaned her head towards his and shifted ever so slightly above him. Her shaking hands were steadied on the bed on either side of him so that as she was bent, he could see perfectly down her sheer pink cami. How much longer could they continue their dance before one would surrender to the other?_

The Doctor gasped, his hand working faster over himself as the sight of Rose over him burned in his mind. How many times had he seen her in that exact top during their late night talk sessions? Even in real life, her nipples would harden and he'd have the mad desire to just touch them—even if it were to only be accidental. He _needed_ to feel her smooth, human flesh beneath his.

_Again, just barely, Rose writhed above him. Her eyes, heavy with lust, closed and her mouth parted to emit a moan. She uttered his name, and it took every ounce of self-control he possessed as a Timelord (which is really quite a bit, but was quickly abandoning him) not to tear off her knickers and plunge deeply into her. He wanted to tell her to stop, yet couldn't find the words. The Doctor knew that, in any second, his mind would give way to his natural, animalistic urges. Part of him wasn't sure a human, especially one as delicate as Rose, could handle the true power of his people._

_Still, the beautifully human Rose continued to torment him, moving carefully and deliberately above him. His hands found her hips, guiding her and pressing himself harder against her. Before he could stop himself, he slipped his hands up higher, bunching up the satiny fabric. With a flick of the wrist, the top was hastily discarded to the floor. The Doctor stared at her, afraid to blink in case she'd vanish in the flash of a transmat beam._

_Rose met his gaze, her chest rising and falling heavily with each deep breath. 'Please', her eyes seemed to be begging, the only sound coming from her were her barely suppressed sighs. He picked her up and positioned her against the nearest wall, her back to him and with her arms pinned above her head. The Doctor ran his free hand over her body, memorizing every bit and pausing only to remove her damp underwear. His hearts stopped in his chest as his eyes worked furiously to burn her image into his memory forever._

_"Doctor," she whimpered, his name sounding like a god's when uttered from her mouth. Rose's body stiffened as his fingers massaged her center, dipping gently into her to explore._

_He stood behind her, shadowing her form with his as he proceeded. She writhed against him, rubbing her naked bum all along his hard length. The Doctor knew she wanted him, to feel him inside of her, but he first had to prepare her fragile humanity for him. He worked faster, rougher, pumping two fingers in her and trying to stay focused enough to sense when she'd come._

The Doctor couldn't take much more; the memory of the dream was too much. He arched his back in his bed, knowing that the inevitable was going to happen very soon. He bit his lip to silence his sounds of pleasure, fearing he'd wake Rose.

_Unable to resist, he turned her around to face him, now with her hands held firm behind her back. She picked up her tired head slowly, staring straight into the endless depths of his eyes. He kissed her, still holding her fast and steady. Yet, despite his heavy body pressed so tightly with hers, Rose managed to wrap one of her legs around his waist, bringing (if possible) her heat even closer to him._

_Their tongues tasted each other's mouths, committing to memory the foreign territory yet moving so expertly it was as though they've always known the other's. She bit at his lips; he bruised hers with sheer force. Rose gasped and panted, he could taste it. When he finally broke free from the embrace, the Doctor could see from the look in her eyes that she knew what was coming._

_He got on his knees and parted her quivering thighs with his nose. As he licked and nibbled on her sensitive flesh, he never once loosened his hold on her. Her body trembled with the promise of an orgasm, but he didn't relent. It wasn't until she took a deep breath in preparation for her cry that he stopped, leaving her swollen clit to suffer in anticipation. She cursed him, mixed his name with words he had never heard her say before, and pleaded with him to let her come. More naughty words flew from her mouth as he gently tongued her nipples and blew on them, but he had to make her wait, to feel the power of a Timelord._

He could still taste her on his tongue, despite it having only been a dream. He cursed himself for not just taking Rose because, after all, it was only a fantasy. His breathing grew ragged, his hand moved faster along himself. He had to last until the end.

_Somehow Rose broke free of his grasp. He supposed that he must have loosened it subconsciously as they kissed again. Her fingers found his scalp and dug deep; he picked her up and put her lean legs about his hips and thrusted her back up against the wall. She moaned into his mouth, raked her nails along his back under his leather coat. Then she fumbled with his buckle and button on his trousers, her deft hands working their way into his pants. She grabbed his cock, letting out a loud gasp upon feeling its girth and size. He bit her neck, nuzzled into her collarbone, breathing hard as she stroked him, silently begging him to take her. Several times his tip managed to briefly brush her entrance, and several times he almost just took the plunge._

_His trousers and briefs fell to the floor, wrapped around his weakening ankles. His jumper and jacket followed in suit. Their bare chests squeezed together, slick sweat formed between them. The Doctor kicked off his shoes, socks, and everything else until he was as naked as she was. They kissed some more, grabbed hair, bit, scratched, groaned, begged, and gasped for every breath._

_So close,_ he thought. _So close . . ._ "Oh, Rose. Please. Rose Rose Rose . . ." The Doctor didn't hear his door creak open (albeit a mere inch) or see the shadow of the girl whose name he'd been crying out.

_Then he took her, thrust himself deeply and roughly inside her, wasting no time with easing into her and allowing her body to get used to him. Rose screamed, shouted out numerous expletives, repeatedly hitting her head on the wall from his plunges. He sped up, firmly holding her hips in place as he took her. The Doctor was going to come; he could feel it, and so was she. Rose tightened around him, clenching._

_"Look at me," he demanded, cupping the side of her face. His thumb dipped between her lips; she lightly bit down, eyes still closed. "Look at me," he repeated, instantly coming as she did, their eyes locked together and both piercing the air with their cries of each other's name._

His hand stopped. His own fluid stained his palm. He struggled for air, still seeing Rose's eyes. He hoped that he hadn't woken her. Exhausted from reliving the dream, the Doctor turned back over in his bed and immediately fell back asleep.

*********

_I hope you enjoyed this story! Chapter Two will be up very soon! Leave a review!_

_~ann no aku_


	2. The Memory

**The Memory Remains**

ann no aku

**Plot: **Ten is plagued by memories that Nine created of him and Rose. Rose/Nine, Rose/Ten

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Doctor Who

**Notes:** Takes place before _School Reunion._

*********

Chapter Two: The Memory

Rose made her way back to her room in a daze after having just witnessed the Doctor orgasm while saying her name. Heat flooded through her, especially in her belly and between her thighs. Watching him writhe, listening to him moan—it was almost too much. If he was enjoying thoughts of her alone, surely he'd enjoy enacting them together, right?

But then it went against the understood, unspoken rule of 'no shagging the companion'. Originally, she had dubbed it as 'no snogging the companion', but both had already broken that rule. Tired, she collapsed back onto her bed, curious as to what the Doctor had thought, what he had envisioned them doing.

It was strange. He never had shown any interest in her whatsoever, particularly with his current regeneration. If anything, he always pulled away before getting too close. They'd only ever hold hands if he remembered, which was becoming increasingly less since his new body. She was starting to think he was deliberately not touching her, and then she caught him pleasuring himself!

Again, the memory of his hand working so expertly over himself sent a flutter through her body. She had been surprised to see him, having no idea that he was so large. _How Timelord-y of him_, she mused with a smile. _Bigger on the inside._ Part of her wondered if she'd be able to act normal the next day. Would he? How long had he been doing that nightly ritual?

If Rose hadn't been on her way to the kitchen for a late night cup of tea (rousing from a nightmare about the werewolf they had just battled), and overheard him moaning in what she had thought was his sleep then gasping out her name, she would never have known he had such thoughts about her. She had hovered at the door, had watched with wide eyes. Rose had almost made her presence known, had nearly burst into his room to finish him off herself. She had licked her lips, eager to taste him and feel him in her mouth.

Rose recalled shifting on the spot, the moisture that had formed between her thighs. She had wanted him, had needed him. If he would have seen her . . . .she swallowed hard. _If he would have seen me,_ she thought, _I would have taken him. I would have-_ Her thoughts were filled of what she would have done, how she would have assisted her Doctor.

_She stood near the door, using it to both shield and support her. The sight of the Doctor's hand moving swiftly, up and down over his length filled her eyes. She let out an audible gasp as he uttered her name, trying in vain to hide before he could catch her watching him. But she couldn't move. She wanted him to see her._

_And he did._

_The Doctor stared, wide-eyed, but seemed to not think she was really there. He continued stroking himself, demanding that she strip for him. His voice was low with lust and need, which only made her more willing to comply. Rose slowly lowered her camisole's strap off her shoulder, still hiding in the shadows. He ordered her to enter his room, which she did but kept her distance. Never once did she break their gaze, watching him with hungry eyes as he watched her lower the other strap._

Despite being alone, Rose flushed at her own thoughts. Every part of her wanted it to be real, the memory of him ending the way she wished it to. She pried herself out of bed and decided to finish her musings in the shower, imagining the hot water as the Doctor's fingers and mouth.

_She stood, unmoving, for a few seconds, debating if she should just fully strip quickly or continue her tantalizing seduction. She chose the latter, running her hands along her body knowing that was what he wanted to do. He moaned again as she lightly pinched her own nipples through the silky fabric of her top. Rose then slipped it off, letting it fall at her feet. She had covered her chest, refusing to let him see her so soon, particularly since she was only in her knickers._

_Lithe like a dancer, she stepped out her shirt, nearing his bed by a mere foot. Rose studied him, waiting for him to calm back down after he had gotten worked up over her closer proximity. He rasped for her to show him her breasts, begging when she didn't immediately do so. The Doctor writhed, muttering incoherent words as his dark eyes feasted upon the sight before him._

In the cubicle, Rose positioned the showerhead between her legs, leaning into the wall as the streams of water touched and massaged every aching bit of her, still remembering his hand over his cock. If she couldn't have the real thing . . . .

_"Touch yourself," he choked out through his uneven breaths. It was a command he needn't have said. The Doctor panted in anticipation, she gently caressed herself through her soaked knickers, moaning as her fingers would find her clit. Her other hand grabbed her breasts, squeezing and pinching._

_After several minutes, Rose torturously, slowly pulled down her underwear, carelessly kicking them aside. She let him stare at her, all natural in her human frailty. But then he called out her name again, sending waves of pleasure through her own body. She couldn't resist, couldn't just stand and watch. Rose almost advanced towards him, almost threw herself atop of him, yet he seemed to sense it and commanded that she stay put and to finger herself instead._

_"I want to watch you come for me," he said, his voice raw with lust. Again, ever the loyal companion, Rose agreed to his request and slipped her middle finger deep into her folds._

Under the pressure of the shower, Rose writhed and dug between her thighs. She teased her clit, thumbing it as she pumped. She was close, she could feel it. But it would be a much better orgasm if it was his mouth on her instead of the vibrating showerhead. As she continued with the 'could have been' memory, Rose wondered what it said about her that she was fantasizing him watching her masturbate.

_The Doctor whispered her name over and over, letting her know he was about to come. Faster and harder, she fingered herself, also saying his name between her gasps for breath. Rose caressed, massaged, touched every part of her body, some bits more than others. He clenched his jaw, squirmed in his sheets, still never breaking eye contact. It was the most erotic sight she had ever seen, and it was bringing her to the edge._

_He told her not to come yet, not until she could feel his mouth on her, his tongue _in_ her. His orders only worked as fuel to the fire. He had never sounded less like the Doctor—but of a man, becoming everything it meant to be male that even different DNA couldn't change. It was nature in that raw that made his voice so appealing and having Rose wanting to show him what it meant to be with a human woman._

_Her knees trembled and threatened to buckle under the weight of her impending explosion. Choked sobs of desperate pleas for him to take her flew from her mouth, mingled with gasps and groans. The Doctor denied her again and again, making her (if possible) wetter with his blatant, harsh refusals and more empty promises of him filling her, pounding into her. It wasn't fair._

_Still, Rose begged, her slick hand dripping with what power he had over her. Never once did he waver, the ever-in-control Doctor. Even as his own body shook with the promise of going to come, he filled the gaps between his growls with such dirty phrases and threats that Rose, whom was lost inside each second, managed to blush. He told her that he wanted to taste her, claim her body so that no one else could have her. She was his, and if he had to mark her, then he'd bite every bit of her, cover her with his juices, and leave a permanent handprint on her bum. He'd make her his slave._

For the past quarter of an hour, she had been in the shower. A steam film coated every available surface. Her eyeliner and mascara streamed down her face, yet none of that mattered. All she could concern herself with was ensuring she'd have a mind-blowing release. Rose couldn't help herself, witnessing the Doctor come to thoughts of her did things to her that no one had ever been able to even hope to achieve. She bit her bottom lip, so close. "Oh, Doctor. Please, let me come. Please . . .Doctor . . ."

_He warned her, told her that he was going to explode. With a guttural groan, he demanded her to look at him (for she had closed her eyes imagining him bending her over and fondling her with his teeth). Then he commanded for her to come. "Now."_

_And she did, screaming his name as he hissed hers out through his tight jaw. Her fingers were coated with her own fluids, just as his palm was covered in his. She licked her lips, desperate to taste it, wishing he had come on her instead. The Doctor looked at her, thoroughly exhausted. He dismissed her, claiming that she was nothing more than a fantasy._

Rose collapsed to the floor of the shower, breathing hard. Like in her wannabe memory, she had screamed the Doctor's name as she came. It was so realistic, especially the ending. She supposed, with a lazy smile, that she envisioned it exactly the way it would have happened had he caught her observing him from his doorway.

_But I'll never know_, she thought bitterly,_ not if he keeps avoiding me and refusing to touch me._ She exited and wrapped a towel about her drenched, spent body. The only thing she did know was that she'd sleep well and not need that tea after all.

*********

_I hope you enjoyed Chapter Two. I am unsure how many chapters there will be to this story. It was meant to be a one-shot, but I've been increasingly bored while at work and it just took a life of its own. Thank you for reading and please leave a review!_

_~ann no aku_


	3. The Fantasy

**The Memory Remains**

ann no aku

**Plot: **Ten is plagued by memories that Nine created of him and Rose. Rose/Nine, Rose/Ten

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Doctor Who

**Notes:** Takes place before _School Reunion._

*********

Chapter Three: The Fantasy

"Rose?"

She was sitting on the chair in the control room, her thoughts completely consumed about the night before. How could he act so normal? How could he work on the TARDIS, hold a conversation (mostly with himself, Rose wasn't listening), while she was literally dripping at the memory of him touching himself?

Rose had dressed very carefully that morning as a means to entice him, force him to act out whatever fantasy he had had, but it seemed all in vain—her short, flimsy skirt, tight t-shirt, and knee-length boots. Her legs were even parted, so that should he look up (she had positioned herself exactly), he'd see directly between her thighs.

Yet, he worked on and talked.

Occasionally, when the Doctor would say her name, she'd blush and shift in her seat—the sound of him uttering her name as he came still fresh in her mind. Rose couldn't pay attention to a single thing he said, apart from her name.

"Rose? Are you listening?"

She bit her lip. He said it again. Closing her eyes, she allowed her thoughts to flood back to the night before, perfectly recalling every detail.

_"Oh, Rose, please. Rose Rose Rose . . . ." His hand stopped, his own fluids stained his palm._

Again, she moved in her seat, nearly jumping out of her skin as the Doctor yelled her name this time, now towering over her. "Are you alright? You're all pink . . .and fidgety."

His hand neared her face, and Rose slapped it away in embarrassment. "'m fine." Rose crossed her legs, only half curious if he saw anything while getting up from the floor.

"You're sure? You don't look so well." The Doctor leaned against the controls, his arms firmly folded over his chest. He eyed her curiously, and Rose knew that he didn't believe her.

"Jus' tired, that's all." It was the first excuse she could think of, which only made her blush brighter. If he were to think that she was awake as he-! Rose swallowed. "Had a nightmare 'bout that werewolf." There. That was the truth. She felt a little better already.

"You should have stopped by my room, Rose. I could have taken care of that for you."

Rose nearly fell out of her seat. She clenched her jaw to keep it closed so the Doctor wouldn't see the look of shock threatening to form on her face. Was he serious? Go to see him? Unless . . ._No,_ she thought, _he couldn't have meant that. He has no idea I saw him last night._ "I-I didn' wan' to wake you."

He shrugged, his arms still folded. "Hasn't stopped you before. Besides, we Timelords don't need as much sleep as humans. Next time," he stared at her intently, making her flush, "don't hesitate to come for me."

"T-to wha'?" she dumbly asked, surprised that any sound managed to come from her throat at all.

If he knew the affect he was having on her or what he had said, the Doctor was doing a fantastic job at hiding it. "I want you to come for me, Rose," he repeated, no hint of a smile in his voice. His eyes were dark and heavy, and he stood resolutely still.

"R-Right," she stammered, desperately trying to regain control of her body. "I'll be sure to remember that." Her hands, which were gripping the edge of the seat, slipped from sweat. She had been leaning over just a tad, and her head almost fell into his crotch.

But he was faster and caught her by the shoulders, looking down at her wide-eyed face. "Perhaps you should go get some rest. You're very tense." His hands lightly squeezed her shoulders, leaning her back against the chair. Almost immediately, the Doctor released her, his gaze never leaving hers.

It reminded her all too much of her fantasy, and Rose needed to look away, but she couldn't. Her eyes feasted on every bit of him, his mouth, jaw, neck, hands, between his thighs. God, did she want to taste him! She licked her lips, ready to yank down his trousers and take him full in her mouth.

Her cell phone, vibrating and trilling noisily behind her, helped Rose from making such a mistake. She wasn't sure how he'd react to her doing _that_. Yeah, so he had masturbated to her, came as he called out her name, but that didn't _exactly_ mean that he wanted it to happen. The Doctor could have just been sexually frustrated, and why not? Centuries of travel and saving worlds gave him little time for a lover, and the unspoken rule about 'no shagging the companion' seemed to have been his idea anyway. So if the Doctor preferred self-gratification, Rose wasn't going to change his mind and ruin their friendship, even if that meant she'd take a page out of his book and deal with her own frustration herself.

With relief, Rose answered the call. It was Mickey. He had found something interesting on the internet about a school called Deffry Vale and wanted her and the Doctor to come home so they could check it out. Without consulting the Doctor, she agreed. She had missed Mickey, and perhaps it'd help her take her mind off the Doctor. Already, he entered the coordinates for the school (based on what he had heard Mickey say through the phone), and Rose said they'd meet him there.

After Rose hung up, she felt better about being so close to the Doctor. The call had distracted her, which was exactly what she had needed to stay plutonic companions with him. She replaced her cell and announced that she was going to her room to change, for it'd probably be chilly or something. She lied, but he needn't know that she had dressed that morning with him in mind.

The Doctor nodded and watched her leave, letting out a huge sigh once she was out of earshot. He had no idea what had made Rose want to dress like she had or sit the way she had, but it had taken every ounce of self-control he possessed not to shove his head straight into her heat. He had to keep himself talking to divert his attention from the pheromones he could smell emitting from her. It was powerful and gave him a noticeable reaction. Her scent, her clothes, the way she'd squirm on the seat—it was a wonder he could even feign repairing the TARDIS at all!

But what had her so aroused? Why was she suddenly so different? He thought of the night before and swallowed hard. There was no way she could have seen him and he didn't notice. He was a Timelord; his people have almost perfect senses, much better than humans.

The only other explanation was that Rose was pre-menstruating, a walking hormone. It explained her flushed cheeks and snippy attitude (she had slapped his hand away and ignored him, after all). He had tried to keep track of her cycle so he'd know when to avoid her, but perhaps it was a little off. She had been tense (was she stressed? Him changing had frightened her), and even had a nightmare.

_She just needs a holiday,_ the Doctor thought. _Going back home and seeing Mickey should help her feel better. As for her PMS, well . . .we could always pick up some chocolate._ Silently, he berated himself for considering, even for a moment, that Rose Tyler wanted him. The poor girl was just suffering from her monthly mating call, and he had happened to be the only male around her. Yet, he knew he hadn't helped, not with his word choices. He had teased her, and he knew it. The Doctor hadn't been able to help it, she had started it by wearing such . . .clothes.

_If Queen Victoria had been able to see her, she wouldn't have accused Rose of being naked in that other tempting outfit._ Again, he gulped at the recollection of her clothing choice. When he had stood up to get her attention, he'd had the perfect glimpse of her knickers. He had been able to tell they were damp with heat and want, and that it had been more than slightly uncomfortable from the way Rose had kept shifting in the seat. But it hadn't been for him.

He leaned back against the controls and sighed. Her head had been mere inches from him, and he had pushed her back. _He had pushed her away!_ If he wasn't such a baby when it came to pain, he'd punch himself. What would have happened if he just held her shoulders? What would have happened if her phone hadn't rang?

_She licked her lips, ready to yank down his trousers and take him full in her mouth. He grabbed her hair, unable to resist a moment longer, and bucked his hips in her face. His erection grinded against her chin and cheeks. Working furious, Rose unzipped and unbuttoned. She stole inside his pants and pulled out his aching cock. Her hot breath teased him, made him twitch in anticipation. He demanded that she kiss it, moaning loudly as her tongue flicked against the tip._

_I should not think about this,_ he chastised himself, rubbing his jaw. _I should stop. Rose will return any moment and I am hard._

His mind betrayed him, continuing his fantasy.

_"Fuck," he gasped as she swallowed him whole, expertly moving her mouth along the length of him. It was too good, too much. He wouldn't be able to last long. He thrust wildly, so close. He dug his fingers into her scalp. So close._

_She moaned, enjoying him taking control. It felt delicious. Her tongue and saliva teased his balls as they gently slapped against her chin. Her hands squeezed his bum, bringing him closer to her so she could take in more. He was going to come, he was going-_

"Rose!" he exclaimed, immediately standing upright and shoving his hands in his pockets to conceal his erection. As he looked at her, the Doctor couldn't help but to feel slightly angry that she interrupted him. He couldn't even imagine her swallowing his orgasm. "Ready?"

"Yeah," she answered after a moment's hesitation. "Let's go."

*********

_I hope you enjoyed! Only two more chapters to go. . . ._

_~ann no aku_


	4. The Lie

**The Memory Remains**

ann no aku

**Plot: **Ten is plagued by memories that Nine created of him and Rose. Rose/Nine, Rose/Ten

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Doctor Who

**Notes:** Takes place between _The Age of Steel_ and _The Idiot's Lantern_.

*********

Chapter Four: The Lie

It had been about two weeks since Rose caught the Doctor in his room. At first, she had entertained the thought that maybe he had wanted her or that he had just been sexually frustrated. Now she knew the truth. It was evidently the latter.

He had practically ignored her upon seeing Sarah Jane again, then Madame de Pompadour! Rose clenched her fist and forced herself to calm down. If he had needed someone to snog so badly, then why not her? Had it been because Mickey was there?

Shortly after being abandoned by the Doctor thousands of years in the future, they had to battle Cybermen and lost Mickey forever. The memory of it brought tears to her eyes, but he had made his choice. Mickey deserved happiness and needed to get over her eventually, as cruel as that sounded. But she planned on being with the Doctor forever, and forever is a long time.

In those two weeks, Rose hadn't bothered to stop by his room again to see if he was still having erotic thoughts of her. She had been too tired, too busy, and way too annoyed over that stupid French tart. Yet, on her first night of freedom where she wasn't upset over Mickey leaving or too exhausted to sleep properly, Rose found herself again roaming the halls of the TARDIS for a cup of hot tea. It was a little chilly for whatever reason, so Rose had donned her slippers and dressing gown, padding her way to the kitchen. She had thought she had heard something from the Doctor's room, but ignored it. Whatever it was, whatever he was doing, it wasn't for her.

Still, her stomach gave a small lurch at the thought of him fantasizing of her as he touched himself. Rose's fingers clutched the edge of the counter, her nails curling into the surface. Despite having been running around a lot recently and Madame de Pompadour, her feelings towards him were the same, and she still wanted him. She wanted his mouth on her, kissing her, taking her right against the bigger-on-the-inside cabinets.

The kettle trembled in her weakening grasp, the water sloshed about madly. Rose could barely focus on the task of busying herself with the tea knowing (and hearing, if she strained hard enough), that the Doctor was very aroused. It didn't seem fair, the amount of power he had over her—the ability to turn her on like a light and leave her waiting for him to cure her burning desire.

Impatiently, she waited for the water to boil, immediately pouring herself a mug so she could sit down and relax. A sigh escaped her lips and she found that her hand was trailing dangerously close to where she wished the Doctor would stick his head. How had that happened? Was she really so frustrated that she had to touch herself? In the kitchen?

_He's doing the same thing in his room_, Rose thought with a smile. _So why can't I?_ She allowed her robe to slip past her shoulders, then the thin straps of her shirt in suit. Boldly, she brushed her hand across her nipples, slightly taken aback at how quickly they responded. A soft moan came from her mouth. Could she? At the table?

She put her feet up on the chair next to her, languidly stretching out and positioning herself better. Again, she touched her breasts, desperately needing _him_ to be there, _his_ fingers pinching her nipples, sliding _his_ hands down her stomach to her heat. "God," she gasped upon feeling how wet she already was. For a couple minutes, she sat there, picturing the Doctor on his bed, coming to her name. Rose bit her lip and closed her eyes, ready to slip her fingers under the waistband of her knickers.

A sound from the hall quickly snapped her back to reality. She barely had time to properly situate herself and drop her feet to the floor before the Doctor walked in, his eyes dark and heavy. He was dressed only in his suit trousers and a fitted t-shirt. He stood in the doorway, staring at her as though he couldn't believe she was sitting there.

Flushed by the scrutiny of his gaze, Rose tightened her dressing gown about her, trying to hide her body which was threatening to betray her. Neither said anything for several minutes, both just looking at each other, waiting, expecting, both with bated breath. He shifted, leaning against the frame, crossing his arms over his chest. Rose could see that his fists were balled up, and his jaw tightly clenched. Why was he only staring at her? Did he see?

"Do you wan' some-?"

"No," he interrupted, his voice low like she had never heard before, except in her fantasies.

She gulped, trying to force herself to look away. His gaze made her want him more, made her wetter. She hadn't even been able to really start before he came barging in, and now she needed to go to her room and do something because the Doctor sure as hell wasn't going to.

"I-I couldn' sleep," Rose explained uselessly, gesturing to her mug of tea.

"I told you to come for me next time," he chastised, sounding stern and somewhat pleading.

Did he really want her to stop by his room? Why? Hadn't he just been—_Oh, God,_ she thought, _don't think about it. Quit picturing his hand sliding up and down—_Rose bit her lower lip to stile her small cry, but she knew he'd be able to hear her. Him with his excellent senses. She almost moaned again as she could have sworn his fingers briefly caressed his length, his hands now in his pockets and still fisted.

"Yeah," she swallowed, "but I didn' wanna wake you." It was nearly the same as two weeks ago before they had picked up Mickey.

"I wasn't sleeping." His eyes seemed to be trying to convey some sort of message, as if to urge her to see beyond his words. The Doctor _wanted_ her to know what he was doing. Just the idea of that had her ready to leap over the table and attack him. "You know that." His thoughts flooded back to the dream he had woken from and waking up with images of her still fresh in his mind.

_They were on the game station. Rose was strapped into the receiving chair and his former self started hungrily at her._

It was the most erotic fantasy his prior regeneration had created, and the Doctor had dreamt about it that night.

_She struggled in the restraints, looking less and less confused as raw lust took her over. Rose whimpered softly as he slowly ran one hand over her entire body, starting at her lightly parted lips. His other hand rubbed himself, enjoying the look of shock on her face. He squeezed her breasts, flicked her pert nipples through her clothes, and pinched her upper thighs. She tried to move, to bring herself closer to his hand, but the restraints held firm._

_"Please, she begged after he stopped, drinking in the sight of her. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair tousled, and every bit of her seemed swollen with desire._

_"Tell me you're mine, Rose," he ordered, loosening the tab on her jeans. His cool fingertips tickled her belly, and again she attempted to buck her hips to make him touch her._

_"Please . . ."_

_"Tell me." The Doctor roughly tugged her jeans down her hips and past her knees. They rested uncomfortably about her ankles, above her trainers. He breathed in her scent and placed his head between her thighs. Through her moist knickers, he nuzzled and nibbled at her, tasting her sex and want. Greedy fingers caressed her, never once touching her bare skin._

_She all but cried when he pulled away. He flipped up her shirt and bra in one swift flick, immediately kissing, kneading, and biting her breasts with fervor. The Doctor growled against her, uttering more demands. "Come for me. Tell me you're mine. Scream my name." Rose writhed in pleasure, strained against the bindings. Curses, please, everything flew from her mouth._

_Everything except what he had told her to say. He told her that he wasn't going to fuck her until she said it, but her brain couldn't work out what he was telling her. All she could do was moan and gasp, cry out and beg. He snatched at her knickers, sliding them down to her feet above her jeans. More he teased her, fingering her clit, flicking his tongue against her sensitive flesh._

"Know what?" Rose managed to ask after several minutes passed. She swallowed, almost afraid of the answer.

His eyes burned into her as he answered, the dream still replaying in his mind. "That I wasn't sleeping."

_Finally, she gave in and promised she was his as she came in his mouth._ He had awoken immediately after that, needing to taste her on his tongue. The Doctor had succumbed to the need and had started stroking himself, desperate for his own release.

Then he had heard her bustling noisily about in the kitchen. He had paused, his hearts had thundered in his chest. "God," she had gasped, and the Doctor had known the she had heard him, too. He had gone to investigate.

What he had found had intrigued him. Her hand had been a hair away from the elastic band of her knickers. She had tried to cover up before he could have seen, for he had made his entrance known only after Rose had recomposed herself. He had wanted to see more, watch her come as he had hid in the shadows, but the Doctor had doubted he'd be able to watch in silence, not with her smell permeating the halls of the ship.

"No, I didn'," she lied, losing her breath as he advanced towards her. She was still sitting and he towered over her. "I mean, I know that Time Lords don' need as much sleep as humans an' all, but-" Rose gave up. She sounded guilty, quite like how he'd sound when she'd catch him in a lie.

For a long moment, the Doctor just stared at her, running his hungry eyes along every bit, as though he could see through her clothes. Why'd he have to wait until she was in her pyjamas to ogle her? Why not two weeks ago when she had worn that skirt for him?

To help play her part of feigning innocence and to gain control of the situation, Rose cleared her suddenly thick throat and asked him, "If you weren't sleepin', what were you doin' then, yeah?"

With what looked like a lot of effort, the Doctor gulped. Again his fists were balled up in his pockets. Despite the amount of control he was showing, he managed to answer her, yet in a voice neither recognized. "I was thinking of you."

*********

_One more chapter left! What will happen between the Doctor and Rose? Will they _finally_ just relieve their tension? Stay tuned for the concluding chapter! Thanks for reading!_

_~ann no aku_


	5. The Epiphany

**The Memory Remains**

ann no aku

**Plot: **Ten is plagued by memories that Nine created of him and Rose. Rose/Nine, Rose/Ten

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Doctor Who

**Notes:** Takes place between _The Age of Steel_ and _The Idiot's Lantern_.

*********

Chapter Five: The Epiphany

"Wh-Wha'?" Had she heard correctly? Had he really been thinking of her?

"I was thinking of you, Rose," the Doctor repeated, stepping even closer to her still. "I have been for a while now."

She couldn't stop looking into his eyes and squirmed in her chair at the memory of him thinking of her. "Oh?" Anyone other than the Doctor wouldn't have been able to hear her.

"Yes."

"Right. Well, uh, if you'll excuse me," Rose began in a voice barely above a whisper, "I'm off to bed." Despite the Doctor being so close to her that she could feel the heat emanating from his body, Rose stood up quickly, accidentally brushing against his length. She didn't hear him groan as she left the room, nor see his fists clench and release repeatedly as if he were trying to regain control of himself.

His eyes found her abandoned, still warm mug. He had let her leave; the second time he had let her go. This time, the Doctor ignored his abhorrence of pain and actually punched the table, missing it and nearly hitting himself in the crotch instead. He was still very much aroused having not finished before.

The blood pumped hot through his veins, burning both his hearts. The uncomfortable pain gave him courage. He grabbed her mug violently, the drink spilled out and pooled on the table. How he wished it was Rose's juices staining the table, mixed with his own. Without thinking, he dipped two fingers into the spilt drink and tasted it, imagining it to be her. From his dream, the Doctor could still taste her on his tongue.

He made his way to Rose's room, a thousand ideas, thoughts, scenarios, fantasies running through his mind. They consumed him as he walked down the quiet, empty halls, making his journey unusually short and most definitely not long enough for him to gain enough moxie to enact his frustrations. Upon reaching her door, the Doctor gave a quick rap and entered without waiting for her to reply.

Rose was on her bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Her dressing gown was carelessly strewn on the back of a chair and her slippers looked as though she had kicked them off in a fury—one was upside down next to a cracked picture frame on the floor and the other straddled the doorway to the bathroom. At first, the Doctor wasn't sure she had registered his arrival, that is until he saw her blink curiously at him.

The Doctor neared her bed and placed her cup on the nightstand next to it. "You forgot your tea," he announced, sitting carefully on the edge of her bed. His dark eyes roamed over her body, noting (with a suppressed groan) that she was wearing the exact camisole she had worn from his fantasy two weeks prior. Her nipples were pert and visible through the sheer fabric, and he tried not to breathe through his nose, denying himself the smell of her sex.

She stared at him, sensing something different about him. It was worse than in the kitchen; he looked more determined, more stressed, and infinitely more aroused. Rose had noticed the look in his eyes, had known that if she weren't to leave immediately, then she'd do something both would end up regretting. She refused to be the one to ruin their plutonic relationship, unsure how he'd take it even if he did want it. She had wanted to finish what she had started, but the Doctor interrupted her. Again.

Subconsciously, Rose writhed under the scrutiny of his gaze, feeling wetter and wanting him even more. She gasped as his cool fingers trailed up her knee and stopped just inches from her center, resting on her right thigh. She gaped at him, her heart thundering loudly in her chest. His other hand followed in suit, and gently he pried her legs a few centimeters apart, his eyes not once leaving hers. Much to both their surprise, Rose allowed it all, instead curling her fingers, which were by her head, into the duvet and leaning heavily into her pillows.

"You have been plaguing my dreams for a long time, Miss Tyler," he said, caressing the edge of her knickers as he spoke. "Your smell, your clothes."

She arched her back against his touch, silently willing him to reach further. Part of her couldn't believe that he was actually there, his hands on her. "I-I saw you," she choked out, quivering under the feel of his cool fingertips. Rose wasn't sure what made her tell him; perhaps she wanted it to be an excuse for her behavior.

"I know."

At first, the Doctor hadn't thought she had caught him at all. But the two weeks after that strange day before Mickey had called, he hadn't smelled her like had had that one night. Bits of him had known she saw—her sweet scent had filled him that night, had helped make the memory of the dream so much more realistic. And never again had he had one like that, and never again had Rose seemed so flustered to see him—until tonight.

It was erotic knowing she had seen him, that it had made her want him. But what he couldn't figure out was why she hadn't done anything about it. Why hadn't she made the first move?

"I could smell you," the Doctor answered in response to her look of confusion. At that, he leaned in close to her, his nose a hair from her thighs. He saw her lick her lips in anticipation, desperately wishing for him to taste her.

He swallowed hard and leaned back. If he wasn't careful, he'd be sure to come too early, and he was still worked up from his dream and the after effects. The Doctor didn't miss the flicker of hurt and rejection on her face, nor her trying to close the distance between her legs, but his light touch held firm. Slowly, he slipped a finger under her knickers and gently tugged, coaxing her to pull them down to her feet. His breath hitched in his throat as he feasted his gaze upon her, and the Doctor had to resist the urge to rip open his trousers and fuck her wild.

"What were you thinkin' 'bout me?" she bravely asked, her voice trembling as he drew circles on her legs.

Rose tried to sit up, only to be pushed back down by him. The deliberation of his caress drove her crazy, and his slow, careful responses infuriated her. For weeks, she'd been the slave to her vision with no outlet, save herself. Now that he was in her room, touching her, undressing her, she thought she deserved a bit more than his torturous tease. "Well?" she prompted when he didn't respond.

Again, his eyes found hers, breaking their contact with her exposed flesh. The Doctor kissed her urgently, his hands squeezing her thighs. She squirmed under his touch and kissed him back, matching his need. Rose's nails tore through his hair, pulling his face even closer to hers. His body gracefully lurched forward under the weight of her strength, and the Doctor pinned her to the bed with this legs. Their tongues danced and battled for dominance, savoring in the flavor of each other's mouth. He nibbled on her lower lip, groaning into her mouth as she gasped. The Doctor settled himself on top of Rose, straddling her waist and pressing his erection deeper into her. Harder, she tugged on his hair, panting between the breaths of their kiss. Her head swam in delight and delirium, not quite believing that the Doctor wasn't another fantasy. His hands gripped her trembling shoulders, trying to steady both himself and her. He wanted her, _needed_ her too much.

Never in all his nine hundred years had the Doctor felt so ruled by his emotions, especially one as basic as lust, not even to the mother of his children. His ever-so-logical mind attributed it to Rose's contagious humanity, refusing to accept that he could love again, want again. Yet, as Rose Tyler continued to consume him, rubbed her damp thighs together, gasped nonsensical words into his kiss, logic was backing down. He knew she loved him, could feel it in her words and stares, but feared it more than anything. He wasn't ready. Even as he gave in to the tension and frustration he'd had since meeting the child, his hearts felt ready to burst with surges of feeling so overwhelming, so fundamental, and so very full of love. He may not be able to vociferate it quite yet, but the Doctor had to admit it was there.

The epiphany forced him to break the kiss, his lips protested and he noticed that Rose didn't seem pleased either. The Doctor needed to slow down; for a Time Lord, recognizing and committing acts of love were the most powerful actions they could ever do. His dreams hadn't prepared him for this. It had been too much to consider. Instead, he brushed his fingertips all along her skin, feeling her tremble and shiver in anticipation. The ever faithful and trusting companion she was, Rose didn't ask any questions. She let him explore her.

He started at her temple after moving off her and followed the invisible pulse of her blood. He felt it flow beneath his light caress, wanting nothing more than to feel it hotter and faster as he'd make her come. His touch stopped between her legs, pausing to discover for the source of her heat. His fingers teased her folds, slipping inside for mere seconds at a time. All the while of his touch, his eyes had followed yet now they searched her face, silently asking permission.

Somehow, Rose managed a weak nod and forgot to breathe as she watched him position his head between her thighs. At first, he just looked at her, making her blush and slightly embarrassed. But she trusted him and let him continue. Part of her wanted to yell at him, beg him to stop his games and fuck her. However, the change in his expression after their kiss had made her feel something, feel _him_ as though they were suddenly connected. Rose only wished to make him happy, to feel his adoration and elation. As he looked at her, Rose could share in everything he felt, making her feel like the most beautiful and perfect person in the universe.

"You are," the Doctor whispered against her, his cool breath seducing her sensitive flesh. His hands held loosely on her lips, his thumbs drew circles on the bone. He breathed in her scent, devouring in the smell of her. In a language Rose presumed to be Gallifreyan, he groaned, finally tasting her.

His tongue teased her, danced deep within in. He used only his mouth, sucking her clit, lapping away at her as though she possessed the most delicious flavor he had ever partaken in. The Doctor sensed her build up and relished in it, burying himself further between her legs. "Come for me. I want to feel it, taste it." He nearly came as she did, sharing in her orgasm. She had cried out his name and now whimpered into her pillow, loosening her grip on the sheets.

Rose's eyes were closed, but she opened them as she felt him studying her. Brown met brown, and both temporarily lost themselves in the depths. While keeping his gaze on her, the Doctor peeled off his t-shirt, hating that for the briefest of moments he had to break contact to toss his shirt over his head. He saw her gulp and try to memorize every visible inch of him, drinking in the sight before her. She, too, removed her shirt, fully baring herself for him to see. Her nipples were pert and her body seemed to emit a sort of golden pink glow. The Doctor had never seen her more beautiful.

Again their mouths met, crushing blindly and urgently. His hands caressed her, everything they could reach and pulled her up to a sitting position; she sat astride his lap. Their hips ground against each other, the Doctor's length rubbing uncomfortably with his pinstripe trousers. He held her lower back, squeezing her to him as he took a nipple between his lips. She clutched at his arms, her head tossed back in ecstasy as his tongue licked, teeth nipped. Everything he did to her, Rose could feel through her own body and him. It was _her_ breast in _her_ mouth, _her_ need pressing against her own sex. The Doctor's thoughts were echoed through her, _into_ her, and Rose knew that being with anyone else would never be the same.

She felt his love for her as his kisses made a trail up her neck and along her jaw, and Rose's heart clenched with relief at finally being granted her wish. The Doctor laid her back down, watching her carefully as he fumbled to remove the last bit of fabric between them. He kicked off his trousers then joined her. They entwined their bodies together, kissing, touching, and committing it all to memory. She found his cock and stroked it, feeling the pearl of hot wetness at the tip. He groaned and involuntarily bucked into her hand.

"Rose," he begged into her neck. "I can't. Please." Without waiting for her to respond, the Doctor flipped so that he was on his back and her on top of him. "Too much," he nuzzled her breasts, held her harder against his length. "I need you too much."

She squirmed above him, desperate to feel him fill her. Rose gasped as he picked her up with surprising strength and slowly brought her down on him. He stretched her, but felt delicious. Neither moved, both lost in the initial sensation. The Doctor held her hips and started to slide her along him, controlling every move. She was wet and tight; her warmth encircled him, heated his own blood.

Leaning over, Rose took both his hand and hers, freely gyrating her hips. She kissed him, his eyelids, nose, forehead, temples, everything until her lips found his. The Doctor thrust against her, urgently, hissing out more low cries in Gallifreyan. He was close, and much too soon. The moment he felt it, he could feel Rose realizing it, bring her to the brink as well.

Roughly they kissed, fighting for every breath and taste. He bruised her lips, bit them, bathed them in apologetic nips before starting all over again. She battled him, nibbling his tongue, lips, moaning soundlessly. As their pace increased, the kiss ended, both too caught up to do anything but feel. Their minds connected more intensely, wrapped around each other. They were as one entity, one emotion.

With an animalistic cry, the Doctor came, releasing deep within Rose. At the same time, she did, too, clenching around him, calling out his true name. Hearing it from her lips, in her voice, burned inside of him something he hadn't felt in centuries—a sense of belonging.

Exhausted from the overwhelming surge of their combined feelings, Rose collapsed tiredly on top of him, reveling in the sound of his hearts thundering. The Doctor stroked her hair lazily, absently, still lost in her exclamation. He pressed his lips to her fingers, which had been curled atop his chest.

"You said my name," he said into her hair.

"Yeah," she managed to gasp after a minute of still trying to catch her breath. "'s beautiful." Rose propped her chin on her hand, her elbow digging into him. "Is it always . . .like that?"

"Yep. Our minds are connected now. Everything you feel, I feel." He smiled at the look of wonder on her face. "Thank you, Rose Tyler."

"For what?" she laughed, listening again to his hearts.

He didn't reply immediately, couldn't. Instead, he waited until her breathing became shallow and she fell asleep. But even then, he couldn't bring himself to say how he felt. She knew, and that was all that mattered.

**The End**

*********

_I hope you enjoyed this story. Please review if you did. Thank you for reading!_

_~ann no aku_


End file.
